In Louisiana, Storm Woes Are Still Brewing : Recovery: As the worst-hit areas of the state begin to bounce back, acts of kindness mix with tales of frustration.

The trucks were lined up, one after another, their huge beds filled to overflowing with the wreckage of Hurricane Andrew.

It was tree limbs, mostly, and as the day went by, more and more trucks added their cargo to the huge bonfire that sent plumes of smoke into the gray, forbidding sky.

And then the trucks went out again for another load in this, the heart of Acadiana. In the days since Andrew hit, thousands of chain saws had done their work from Morgan City to Lafayette. Ton upon ton of tree limbs, many of them from the remains of once-stately antebellum oaks, had been stacked along the country roads where Andrew had done its destructive work.

With the passing of each day since the storm marched through the swampland that makes up the lower third of this state, damage estimates have increased to a point where the figure is approaching $1 billion. That may pale in comparison to the havoc in Florida, but, put another way, if Andrew had hit only Louisiana, it would still rank as the fourth-worst hurricane to batter the United States in the last 20 years.

The bayou behind Ricky Ortego’s trailer in Centerville reeks with the smell of dead fish, something that wasn’t even mentioned in the early days after Andrew blew through. But now, state officials are talking about massive fish kills from the storm. They are estimating that 182 million fish, worth $159 million, died in the state’s freshwater Atchafalaya Basin and that another 7 million saltwater fish, along with millions of oysters, were killed as well.

Most of the deaths were attributed to a lack of oxygen, as the storm swirled up sediment, while leaves and grass coated the top of the water.

“When we left, it was like summertime,” Ortego said. “But when we came back, it looked like wintertime with all the leaves gone. And a bunch of those landed in the water.”

The storm blew through the heart of Louisiana’s sugar cane farms and much of that crop has been wiped out. Crop damage could approach the $300-million level, including 47,000 acres in St. Mary Parish, to the south of Jeanerette, that were flattened by the storm.

Tommy Dewey, who works for the Jeanerette Sugar Co., said Andrew took off the tops of the sugar cane plants two months before harvest. He said what little sugar was already in the plants would be used up trying to reproduce new leaves.

Many growers will harvest their immature plants early. “They’re going to try to salvage what they can,” he said.

Offshore, another $100 million in damage was done to oil and gas platforms in the Gulf of Mexico.

But in the time since Andrew struck 10 days ago, a sense of order has emerged from the chaos. Plastic sheeting now covers gaping holes in roofs. Yards have been cleared of debris. Telephone and electric lines have been restored in much of the countryside, though not to the Centerville home of 84-year-old Chris Clausen and his wife, Bessie, who were still using candles and ice for refrigeration late in the week.

“Maybe we ought to get George Bush to come here,” he said. “Then maybe they’d have to do something.”

As Andrew turned in from the Gulf of Mexico, the first major target was Morgan City, a small shipping town about 20 miles inland from Atchafalaya Bay. Some of the boarded buildings remained closed late in the week, and the place had a battered look to it but not nearly so whipped as a week ago. Outside the town’s convention center, dozens of people stood in line for the wearying process of filling out the forms that would eventually get them federal assistance.

Frances Dale, an official with the Federal Emergency Management Agency, said as many as 800 applications for assistance had already been filled out. And she, like so many others, had her own special memory of how people had helped in the aftermath of the storm--hers being that famed Cajun chef Paul Prudhomme had established a field kitchen to feed jambalaya and red beans and rice to the hundreds in need of a hot meal.

And on the other side of the room, Salvation Army Capt. Darrell Kingsbury said the Morgan City operation had been overwhelmed by the number of donations, so much so that there was no room for any more clothing.

“What we need to tell people is no more clothing,” Kingsbury said. “The problem is storage space. When we get 22 truckloads in two days, we are overwhelmed.”

Outside, Glenda Salkowitz was growing restless after she had waited two hours for food vouchers.

“I’m a patient person, but this is pitiful,” she said.

Up the road a bit in Centerville, Ortego said his patience was running thin as well, waiting for the electricity, waiting for the insurance man, not knowing if the water is fit to drink, having to drive the 50-odd miles to Lafayette for food.

He said he was still waiting for his trailer to be put back on its blocks, but that heavy equipment to do it was not yet available. So meanwhile, he lives on a tilt.

“This waiting has been hell on us,” he said. “I’m living in a trailer where you think you’re drunk when you walk in it. More and more people are getting a little more aggravated. People want to get on with their lives.”

North of Centerville is the town of Franklin, perhaps the hardest-hit spot along Andrew’s route. It also was in mid-repair. At the intersection of roads where the Wal-Mart store is located, Carol Conravey of Dallas was standing in the rain holding up a sign that said “Free Ice.”

In a matter of just a few hours, a semi-trailer containing 40,000 pounds of ice had been emptied, given to people who were still without power. The ice had been donated by David Peters of Dallas after he was angered that one of his relatives living in nearby New Iberia had been gouged for $20 a bag in the immediate aftermath of the storm.

“There’s still a lot of people who don’t have power,” Conravey said. “And there’s a lot of others who had their homes destroyed. So they have nothing.”

Up the road even further was Jeanerette, where Ted Kahn, the chief of police, was sitting at his desk, talking about the incredible quantity of donations that had been sent to the stricken area.

He said the chief of police in Monett, Mo., had sent along 10 extra bulletproof vests, figuring the ones in Jeanerette may have lost their integrity if water got on them. The Kingstree County, S.C., Sheriff’s Department took up a collection and gave the Jeanerette mayor a check for $2,075 for clothes, food and supplies. Another middle-aged couple pulled up in their mobile home so volunteers would have a place to sleep.

Another man rolled up in front of the police department the day after the storm and cooked barbecue every day for anyone who wanted it.

Jeanerette, like other towns along Andrew’s path, has been inundated with food and clothing. But the endless waiting that is a part of a disaster was also there.

Mike Derise, a car salesman from Jeanerette, said he had to wait eight hours earlier in the week for emergency food stamps. In Baton Rouge, which was pelted by Andrew as it weakened, three people had to be taken to the hospital for injuries when 3,000 people jammed a government agency’s hallways trying to get food stamps.

Lt. Rand Hultz of the Louisiana National Guard was driving down a Jeanerette street the other day, talking about how things had gone over the last week. He said his men had been treated like royalty from the moment they arrived. Store owners had served them food, gave them cigarettes.

“Their money was no good at any store in town,” he said.

Cajun Country

The hurricane tore through Acadiana, wiping out much of Louisiana’s sugar cane crop. If Andrew had hit only Louisiana, it would still rank as the fourth-worst hurricane to batter the United States in the last 20 years.